Monaco and the Micronations
by Dia Discordia
Summary: The micronations are slowly losing their hopes of ever joining the UN. Who better to help them than the world's smallest recognized country, right?


**Hetalia is owned by Hidekaz Himaruya**

* * *

 _Somewhere in a strange place, a bunch of strange kids gathered for strange reasons…_

"Thank you all for coming!"

Sealand stood on top of a rickety old folding table with an attempted heroic stance, holding a pose with intense glee.

"Get down from there!" Wy yelled angrily. "You're not cool at all!"

"Oh come on, Wy! Lighten up!" Sealand laughed. "I think this pose makes me look strong and important."

"Ah~yes Sealand, very important!" Seborga clapped his hands together.

"Why the hell am I here?" Molossia growled. "Did I really come all this way to watch Sealand play superhero?"

"Get on with it, you idiot!" Ladonia barked.

Even with the rising commotion, Kugelmugel was the only one still in his seat and unperturbed. The small micronation was stuck in contemplation - he always did it - and wondering if things could be classified as art.

These children and young adults were the micronations of the world, self-proclaimed sovereign states. They weren't very...popular. They all encompassed a tiny bit of "territory" that they applied their laws to and lived free as if they were actually legit.

The plan of the micronations was to become legit, and make their way into the ranks of the United Nations. So, all on his own (or so he believes), Sealand gathered a whole group of friends to further pursue that goal.

Ladonia, the Swedish micronation with popularity on the internet, and so connected he is connected himself.

Hutt River, the first Australian micronation with an expensive taste and refined mind, but opinions about him were very divided.

Molossia, the American micronation from the deserts of Nevada, who was very scary but actually pretty clownish and unintentionally funny.

Kugelmugel, the Austrian micronation whose "territory" was a small sphere house, and spent his time obsessively labelling things as art.

Seborga, the Italian micronation who was kind of eccentric, but a very nice guy who lived by the Mediterranean.

Wy, the other and younger Australian micronation who was an artist, who also believed she was the only sane one and all the males that surrounded her had no intelligence and no hope.

And finally Sealand, the obnoxious micronation who was pretty much British, delusional, wishful, but determined, the boy who lived on a hunk of metal off the British coast.

Everyone had gathered (except for that expensive guy) in some assembly hall, in some city in England that he had broken into that night. The meeting was just them, a table, and some old metal folding chairs that needed replacement.

"Okay, everyone! That's enough discussion!" Sealand cried. "We can get started, right?"

"Took you long enough!" Ladonia hissed.

"Then sorry for the wait!" Sealand replied. "Let's start by giving our progress reports toward recognition. I don't have one, but nothing happened this month, so I just kicked some footballs into the sea for a whole week! I didn't make any progress."

"Wow, Sea!" Seborga said excitedly. "I didn't make any either."

Wy got up and kicked her chair behind her. "Two people didn't do their job. Another waste of time. I'd rather hang with Hutt than with you, so I'm leaving."

A small chorus began to chime in.

"Nothing."

"Me neither."

"Is recognition art?"

"Wyyyyyyyyyyyyy," Sealand whined. "Come back!"

"No way," Wy retorted. "I don't even know why I still come to these meetings. All we do is talk about stupid things and give progress reports we don't have. I have better things to do, so I'm going home."

"My meetings aren't stupid!" Sealand cried as he flailed his arms in flabbergastation.

"Wy is right!" Ladonia chimed in. "These meetings get us nowhere. We don't do anything but cry about becoming Nico Nico."

"There ain't any friggin' order," Molossia added.

Kugelmugel paused his art ponderings to nod his head in approval.

"Ah, but I like these meetings," Seborga said.

"Yes, but that's because you enjoy inanity," Wy grumbled.

"Wy!" Sealand cried out again. "Don't be so rude!"

"Well then, listen to me," Wy said. "I would stay if we knew how to be independent and actually pushed for it. It's not like we have any idea how, it's not like we were taught."

"That's a great idea!" Sealand exclaimed! "We find someone to teach us."

"Wha-huh?" the girl stammered. "I wasn't suggesting that!"

"Ah, a mentor!" Seborga clapped again. "A country to teach us."

"That could work," Molossia muttered.

"Yeah, but who would teach _us_?" Ladonia catcalled. "It's not like there's a country that would willingly take us under their wing."

Kugelmugel looked up.

"Monaco,"

"Monaco!?"

" _Monaco?_ " Molossia yelled. "What are you getting at? She's so friggin' prim and proper, she would refuse in an instant!"

"Well, she is friendly with us," Seborga commented. "I did manage to take her on a date."

"She's part of the United Nations!"

"But she's the smallest country in the United Nations, and the smallest recognized in the world! Only the Vatican is smaller, but Mr. Vatican isn't really in the United Nations. I bet all of us combined, plus Hutt River makes us larger," Ladonia schemed.

"She's perfect!" Sealand squealed, "We won't know if we don't ask, right? So since Kugelmugel suggested this, that's one vote from him, and I vote yes, who else?"

"Let's ask Monaco!" Seborga voted.

"I agree!" Ladonia cried.

"We won't know if we don't try," Molossia said.

"And Wy?" Sealand questioned.

Wy looked uncertain. "I don't know…"

"Come on Wy! The meetings will finally have purpose, because Monaco will be teaching us. What do you say?"

Wy shifted her eyes, to the group sitting in the chairs, and sighed angrily.

"Fine," she muttered. "I'll do it."

"That's the spirit!" Sealand yelled, as sirens began to sound in the distant night, with red and blue lights approaching through the hall windows. It seemed that the micronations' meeting was a bit too noisy, and a bit too much after hours

"It's agreed! We'll meet in Monte Carlo next weekend. Now see you all later! I'd go through the back door if you don't want to greet the cops.

Although the rush to the back was intense, they were impeded by an unaware Kugelmugel that they had to drag out by his arms. Although many of them berated Sealand for his poor choice of meeting time and place, he wasn't listening. Recognition and independence was all he could think about.

 _Next Chapter: Monaco gets a handful of children in her kitchen._

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 **Author's Notes:**

 _ **Their areas probably wouldn't be larger than Monaco.**_

 _ **You'll see Hutt River later.**_

 **I'm going to try to continue this, this has been an idea that's been in my head for a long time, but I wasn't sure how to pursue this. We'll see how this goes.**


End file.
